A Little Flight In Fancy
by gleened
Summary: Al comes begging for advices, and leaves with something else entirely. The most obvious is not necessarily the truth, in any case. Future-fic. Albus Severus. Scorpius.


I own nothing but my own mind.

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**A little flight in fancy, or what might have been.**  
Scorpius' reasons are his own, and never straightforward, as always.

glee  
Fall 2007

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When Albus Severus Potter first visited the Glass House, he was kindly greeted by spirits and brought to the upper levels immediately after signing his nametag. He was also given cider and cookies. Good, homemade cookies, unsurprisingly.

What was unexpected, however, was the sight of grand diviner Scorpius Malfoy ---all glamour off, chalk in his hair and shirt half off--- sitting on the floor among piles of old tomes and broken granite pillars.

"I thought your job consisted of sitting around in a fancy office and telling people how to build their house and name their kids."

"You'd be surprised," Scorpius good-naturedly shooed him away from the rune he inadvertently stepped on, and scribbled the number 42 beneath it.

"...what are you doing?"

"Why ask when you don't want the answer? I'm almost done, hold this for me." The older wizard, though not by much, shoved a piece of rock not dissimilar to all the other pieces of rock in that room in the arms of his unsuspecting friend.

Albus entertained himself for the next few minutes watching the pale man he had known for more than half his life. Scorpius would never be colossally big, but he was impressive enough, all sinews and bones, rugged edges and sharp curves. A true hedonist in an ascetic's body, no doubt. Even sprawled on the ground, he gave the impression of somebody not to be crossed. Of course, Albus himself had no cause to be envious, either.

It was a privilege to be able to see the youngest Malfoy so unguarded, Albus supposed, especially considering their respective background, but really, he was beginning to feel neglected there.

"Put it down behind that line." Scorpius clear baritone resounded just on cue. "Not that one, the direction line on the left. _Your_ left. Advance. One more step. There. Yessss..." And he promptly went back to his furious scribbling.

"You are sure you don't want me to come back later?"

"Absolutely." Long fingers firmly grasped the visitor's arm and dragged him toward the back room.

Albus stumbled along, trying his best to avoid the great many obstacles on his way.

"What is it?"

The next thing he knew he was staring directly into shrewd narrowed eyes and clutching a glass of top quality firewhisky, which he promptly gulped down.

"How do I propose?" That stare was really becoming unnerving.

"And you ask me." Scorpius' mouth curved sardonically.

"Do you see anyone else here?" Albus felt his temper flare. His friend was great, loyal, and all, but damn that mocking tone of his. Couldn't he not tear into anything he disapproves?

"You want to marry Evelyn Towler."

"Yes."

"She who once went out with your brother. Then again, who didn't?"

"Yes." This time Albus' voice came out rather more tightly.

"Who had a crush on you for the longest of time?"

"Err... yes?" Albus felt the ground shift under him again. He knew that too?

"You're both of age."

"Yes!" _Get to the point, Malfoy!_

"My, aren't we getting defensive? Just go and ask her, she'll be ecstatic. Just think, to be the next Mrs. Potter, probably every girl's childhood dream or something."

"Take that back!" Albus jumped up and grabbed the frustrating man by the collar, or he would have, if the shirt did not come off in his hands. He stared at it, appalled, fingers spasming.

"But it's true." Scorpius' mouth curved up minutely. "No matter. Well it's her birthday soon, no? Buy a ring, invite her to diner and give it to her. How hard can it be?"

"What? Oh." Albus was getting a headache. Scorpius' mood could change at lightning speed, though he never figured out whether that was just his friend's nature, or a carefully devised method to keep people off balance. "Thanks, I guess."

"Only me, would tolerate your pigheadedness. I did told you not to ask questions you are unwilling to receive the answer of." Scorpius smiled wanly.

_What was he going on about again?_ Albus stared at the other man's bobbing Adam's apple, incomprehensibly. He let himself be gently guided toward the fireplace, then in.

"You may keep the shirt," Albus heard distantly, and noticed with dismay that indeed, he was still clutching Scorpius' finely made dress shirt. But already his friend's face was dissolving in a swirl of green flames. He must have imagined the wistful look that very briefly graced familiar slate coloured eyes.

For some reason, that made everything all right in the world again.

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[one-shot][complete]


End file.
